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Abigail was quiet whenever John was gone. She was angry when he was there, and quiet when he was gone. She did her share of the chores, she was polite and friendly when spoken to, and she smiled and nodded along when Jack explained the games he invented to her, but she mostly sat in her tent, eyes far away.
There was a sort of wall between her and the gang, which is why it touched Sadie so when she came to comfort her at the start, when she was broken and grieving. From then, Sadie felt that if there was ever cause, she would like to return the favor.
When Arthur hauled Jack up into the saddle and they rode off to the river together, Sadie looked for Abigail, hoping to coax her out of the quietness that she was sure she would find her in; saw her sitting against one of the rocks overlooking the valley, knees up, arms resting on them. Her eyes were far away again, and she looked so tired and worn.
Sadie was fairly close when she realised she hadn't noticed her yet, so she stopped, awkwardly cleared her throat, waved to her vaguely. "Abigail," she greeted, gravel voice softer than usual.
Abigail looked up at her briefly, smiled a little, but didn't say anything.
"Y'mind if I…?" Sadie said, shifting on her feet.
"Oh, no, go on," she said, shuffling to the side as a welcoming gesture, voice barely above a whisper. She smiled softly again, but it didn't stick, slipping away quickly.
Sadie sat down cross-legged next to her. Looked at her sideways for a moment - her eyes were almost jarringly pale, framed by her dark eyelashes - but when Abigail didn't meet her gaze, she turned to look over the valley too. Sadie's arms lay awkwardly in her lap. She hadn't thought this far ahead. The silence felt thick and strange.
Abigail inhaled, like she was going to say something, and the sound jolted Sadie more than she thought a little sound could, but nothing followed it.
A few more beats of silence, and Abigail chuckled quietly, tinged with bitterness. "Y'know, I… it's hardly worth me saying, as a part of this miserable little outfit, but this isn't how I thought my life would look."
Sadie turned to her again, leaning with one hand on the ground.
"I know a lot of 'em resent me for forcing John into fatherhood, as they see it… I know he certainly does," she sighed, looking at the ground in front of them. "I think I do too, sometimes. I feel sad for him, often. I know it isn't what he planned, and God knows he wasn't ready for it. But…"
Abigail turned fully towards Sadie, met her eyes, face exasperated, or frustrated, or desperate - something in that region. Sadie sat up straighter and looked back at her, willing her face to look as open and gentle as it could.
"I didn't…" She gripped Sadie's free hand in her own, squeezing hard. Sadie's brows knitted, holding her gaze. "Don’t think I don’t love Jack. I will care for him for all of my days. He's the most important thing in my life - you know that, right?" She looked suddenly very frightened.
Sadie nodded firmly. "Anyone with eyes can see how much you love that boy, Abigail."
She let out a breath, eyes dropping to the ground again, releasing Sadie's hand. Sadie slowly fisted it in her own lap, not looking away from her face.
"I didn't choose to be a mother, either - but I would never run from that boy. On my darkest days… I've thought of it, but never for more than a second. I was barely out of girlhood when I had him, younger than John -" Another sigh, this one sharp and bitter. "God, I'm sorry, Sadie. Ignore my ranting. I'll, ah… You go on back to the others."
"Hey now, don't do that." Abigail turned to look away from her, but Sadie saw her eyes shining before she did.
"Abby. C'mon, now. Look at me." Sadie reached up and turned her face back towards her, very gently, and left her fingers on her jaw, so soft they were barely touching her. The vulnerability on Abigail's face was so raw that it hurt to look at.
"You ain't a bad mother. You ain't a bad woman. You're one of the finest women I've ever met. Frankly, it pisses me off that you don't see that!" She barked out a laugh, then, looking stricken, interrupted it - "Uh, that was a joke, I ain't really -"
Abigail laughed wetly. "Be quiet, you silly woman, I know."
Sadie smiled sheepishly at her, face red, then sort of stutteringly moved her hand from her face to her shoulder. Abigail reached to hold it in one of her own, sweeter and softer this time.
There were a few beats where they looked at each other, both seeming a little lost; then Sadie ducked her head, pulled her hand away, turned to face forward again.
"Hey, uh, if Arthur ain't about when you next need a break, I'd be happy to take Jack out for a while. I don't know how to fish, but I could teach him how to ride - he been shown yet? Or I think I heard the circus is in town, or -"
"Sadie. That's real kind of you." Abigail's voice was still shaky, but a smile warmed it.
"And… you can talk to me, 'bout any of this - or other stuff - any time, alright?"
Sadie looked up again, so much feeling in Abigail's crystal blue eyes that it stilled her breath.
"…Any time," she repeated, quiet as the wind in the grass.
"Okay, Sadie," Abigail said, not smiling any more, but not looking away.
The moment lingered. Both women were still. The sun was warm, and the air was sweet. Abigail's dark, dark hair curled around her face, and her lips parted ever so slightly, and Sadie became oddly aware of her own breathing.
Then a couple of turkeys came flapping clumsily from the brush at the other side of camp, and Abigail looked away.
"Arthur's back. I'm gonna go see…"
"Alright, y- okay," Sadie's head jerked down and she looked at her own hands.
Abigail stood up quickly and hurried off to see her boy, leaving Sadie sitting in the grass. She fiddled with her own hands, and closed her eyes, and sighed. The breeze sighed with her, in the branches of the tree above her head; little birds sang; dandelions bobbed their heads by her knees.